the Apocalypse
by PhoenixRae
Summary: Future Wyatt Halliwell concocted a time traveling spell & returned to 2003. Voldemort was defeated in 1998 by Harry Potter, but he never really died. A mystical being & the spawn of the damned plays an important role in Voldemort & Wyatt's rise to power.
1. I Visions! Visions! Visions!

**Disclaimer:** **_Harry Potter, Charmed, Buffy the Vampire Slayer_** **_Angel_** are properties of JK Rowling, Aaron Spelling Joss Whedon. Except for the occasional 'original character' that might crop up every now and then. I don't own any rights to the aforementioned titles or its characters, I am merely borrowing them to cure this nagging plot bunny in my head.

**Summary:** Future Wyatt Halliwell concocted a time traveling spell and returned to 2003. Lord Voldemort was defeated in 1998 by Harry Potter, but he never really died. A mystical being and the spawn of the damned plays an important role in Voldemort and Wyatt's rise to power.

**PhoenixRae's Notes:** I know this is gonna be a heckuva crazy plot bunny to wrestle with, but please bear with me as this is my first ever crossover fic that I am working on. I am keeping with the current timeline here hence the 2003 time travel by Wyatt. grins If any of you watched the above-mentioned shows, you will know that the 2003-2004 season is the series finale for **_Buffy_**, 'Chris' became a regular on **_Charmed_** 'Cordelia' became a higher being only to return back to earth to help her champion in **_Angel_**. But I can't promise to stick with the plotlines that happened that season for these three shows. The **_Harry Potter_** kids won't be kids anymore; they'll be in their 20s already and...well, yeah, just stick with me on this one, please? smiles **AND** a special SHOUT OUT to Evie for helping me think of a title for this fic. _You sooooooo rock, girl!_

* * *

**I. Visions, Visions, Visions!**

_San Francisco, CA_

IT WAS A DAY JUST LIKE ANY OTHER day in the Halliwell Manor.

Piper was busy doing the laundry while Paige was on baby-sitting duty with Wyatt. Piper was still a bit miffed at Leo for what he did to her over the summer, making her not feel the pain of losing him when he was appointed an Elder, but she was managing. After all she had Wyatt to think about. Her sisters were great help. Well, Paige was mostly the one who ended up babysitting her nephew, but she doesn't seem to mind. Phoebe, meanwhile, was busy getting ready for work upstairs. She was running late, as usual, and was making quite a racket.

Paige glared up at the ceiling when she heard Phoebe's hurried footfalls. Honestly _when_ will her sister learn to use an alarm clock?

"Is that Phoebe running late again?" Piper appeared on the laundry room doorway with a clothes hamper clutched against her hip.

Paige looked up from changing her nephew's diaper. The redhead's look answered Piper's question. Ever since the whole Cole episode their middle sister's been on the fritz.

"I swear I'm gonna put a _gong_ on her side table," threatened Paige. She finished putting Wyatt's diaper on and lifted him into her arms. "Either that _or_ she needs to get it on with that Jason Dean dude at work." She added.

Piper cocked an eyebrow and set the hamper on the counter. "I think she'll need more than just a quickie with the boss," she commented and reached out her arms for her son. Wyatt willingly went to his mother's outstretched arms .

"I second that," Paige agreed and handed Wyatt back to his mother. "But I think our Phoebe's having some anxiety."

"I am not!" A frazzled Phoebe breezed into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee machine. "Is this fresh?" She asked but didn't wait for an answer before pouring herself a cup. She lifted her mug up to her nose and inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee. "Mmm...heaven," she cooed before taking a big sip.

Piper, with Wyatt in her arms, and Paige stepped back and watched their other sister hunt around the kitchen in search of food to go down with the coffee. The sisters exchanged looks but didn't say anything. Phoebe, meanwhile, lifted covers and opened cupboards in search of muffins, cookies, sandwich or anything she can eat. She was on an eat-and-run mode and couldn't afford to be late. Elise wouldn't be at all too pleased with her tardiness. Lately she'd been lacking the spirit to jump up and off the bed and head off to work.

"Oooh, muffin!" She exclaimed like a giddy six-year-old when she saw the last apple bran muffin and dibbed it. Munching on her muffin while sipping her coffee, she savored the feeling as the warm, dark liquid slid down her almost parched throat. In four bites the muffin was gone, her coffee cup empty and she placed the dirty cup in the sink. "OK, I'm off!" She announced and rounded the counter island table to plant a goodbye kiss to her nephew. "See you later, sweetie." She kissed Wyatt on his forehead.

And that was when it happened.

Phoebe took a sharp intake of breath and was sucked into another one of her visions. It barely made sense to her. All she saw were blurry snippets and laser-like colours being aimed at each other. Chaos ran amok and in the middle of it were five beings; one an ugly, snake-like man with a much younger and stronger man beside him. There were three other people with them, a young girl and boy, and the fifth person was...Phoebe sucked in a deep breath when she recognized the face of the fifth person being held at the throat by the younger man beside Snakeman.

And then her vision stopped.

"Phebes?" Paige and Piper were looking at their sister questioningly. They knew what just happened to her. She had a vision, and if it was triggered when she kissed Wyatt, then they could bet their bottom dollar Wyatt was involved.

When Phoebe opened her eyes she was staring wildly at her nephew, then her glazed dark brown gaze moved from Wyatt to her two sisters.

"We need to call Chris and Leo," she deadpanned.

* * *

_Los Angeles, CA_

CORDELIA CHASE DROPPED THE VASE she was puttering with in the Hyperion's lobby. The not-so-expensive vase fell from her suddenly limp hands. Its shattering sound alerted everyone within earshot to some imminent danger.

But there wasn't any danger to worry about, except for the fact that she was assaulted by yet another mind-splitting vision. This time the vision came in blurred snapshots. A dark, crowded place. Laser lights, like those lightsabers used in _Star Wars_ were being aimed at one another. Lots of screaming. There was a blond; three brunettes who looked alike - probably sisters -; an older man with long, white beard; a young man with a scar on his forehead; there were five figures in the middle of this whole mess as well. A man in probably his late twenties was holding a younger man who looked a bit like him - brothers perhaps- by his throat. He was choking him! And the other figure, a hooded man with a butt-ugly face was holding two figures in each hand; a girl and a boy. They both looked familiar.

Cordelia tried to focus her gaze on those two. Something about the long, dark brown haired girl and the other dark brown haired boy was very familiar. The hooded figure turned the faces of his two captives just a slight bit and...

"_Oh my God!_" Cordelia gasped out loud. She was slumped against the circular couch in the Hyperion's lobby surrounded by the gang who were all anxiously looking at her.

"Cordy, are you okay?" Angel asked worriedly. He was beside her in a flash, an arm around her waist helping her up.

Still feeling a bit wobbly after that whopper of a vision she just had, Cordelia managed to steady herself and put all her weight against the man beside her. "I...I don't think so." She shook her head firmly, willing herself to shake off that vision, but she couldn't. She lifted her gaze and looked at the faces of the people surrounding her. But she was in search of one person's face in particular. That boy in her vision that was being choked with the girl.

She found him standing separated from the crowd, his scowl as dark as his father's. He was watching her with those intense dark eyes.

"Oh Connor," she sighed and looked forlornly at the teenager. She snapped her attention back to the tall, dark, and brooding man beside her and announced, "We need to contact Wesley."

* * *

_Sunnydale, CA_

BUFFY SAT BOLT UP FROM WHERE SHE fell asleep on the couch in their living room. She just had the weirdest dream that gave her the wiggins. It was different from her previous dreams that warned her of what was to come. She was in a dark place, people screaming and shooting laser lights, colourful laser lights, at one another. Amidst the chaos five distinct figures were present. One man was choking another man to death while the other figure, an older, scary looking hooded man had his hands wrapped tightly around two teenagers' necks: a boy and a girl. Buffy was standing behind the hooded figure and peered over his shoulder. It was when she saw the girl's face the man was choking that she instantly kicked her leg up and sliced her arm at the back of the evil hooded figure.

She scanned the empty living room, her ears pricked at the slightest sound. She heard movements and some chattering happening in the kitchen. Three welcoming female faces looked up from the baking that was happening and regarded her oddly.

"Anything wrong, Buffy?" asked Willow, her best friend since she moved to Sunnydale.

"You look troubled, Buff," commented her sister, Dawn.

Faith, the other slayer who'd been through hell and back with Buffy, frowned and cocked her head to the side. She can pretty much tell what the other slayer was thinking about and what could ever possibly be going through her mind at the moment.

"We need to kick some serious ass again, don't we, B?"

Buffy met the brunette slayer's gaze and held it for the longest time. God, she hated it when Faith knew what she was thinking.

"Round up the gang. We're going on a trip."

"Now?" Willow and Dawn asked in unison, each looking at each other in alarm.

"Yes, _now._" Buffy crossed the space between them and walked up to Faith, "Are you ready for some serious ass kicking, Faith?"

The brunette slayer's upper lip twitched into what could only be interpreted as a maniacal grin.

* * *

_London, England_

HARRY POTTER WOKE UP WITH A JOLT FROM where he fell asleep in his chair. He did a quick scan of the room and was relieved to find himself still in his cubicle on Level Two inside the Ministry of Magic office. People were buzzing about here and there, going about their business as usual, while he obviously dozed off from too much work he had been putting himself to. He needed a break. He knew he did, but after spending years staying on alert just in case a surprise attack on his person was forged by the late Dark Lord, he had a hard time slowing down and taking things lightly.

Nothing looked like it was amiss in the office - except for the burning sensation on his forehead where his scar, the sole remnant of the now defeated Voldemort, was burning a hole through his skull. _That_ was what jolted him awake. He pressed the heel of his hand against it in the hopes of stopping the pain, but it was to no avail. The damn thing was driving him nuts!

"Harry, are you okay mate?" Ron Weasley, his best friend and fellow Auror, poked his bright red head into Harry's mediocre-sized office space.

"I don't think so, Ron," hissed Harry, his green eyes screwed-up tightly as he waited for the pain to go away. "My scar...it's burning."

If it was possible to dislocate your jaw and have it fall on the ground that would've been the case with Ron. He stepped in to his partner's office immediately. After over twelve years Ron knew what that burning scar feeling meant.

"Harry are-are you sure?" His voice cracked like he was back in his puberty years. "You're not just pulling my leg here or something, are you?"

Harry understood his friend's reluctance to believe his scar was acting up again. Voldemort was defeated for the umpteenth time five years ago. They all saw his sorry arse burst to flames during their final confrontation. But that didn't stop Harry from glaring at his best mate. His scar was giving him a splitting headache and Ron was too damn busy getting scared over something that might not even be true. But deep down inside Harry had a gut-feeling he was only kidding himself. This scar had been imbedded on his damned forehead for twenty-two years now, he ought to know what it meant by now!

"Ron, would I be joking about this if my head feels like it's being split apart?" He snapped, gritting his teeth as the pain intensifies. "Dammit. We need to talk to the Minister," he announced and pushed himself off his chair.

Ron ambled out of Harry's office and followed his friend to the Minister of Magic's office.

* * *

**To Be Continued...**


	2. II Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!

**Disclaimer:** **_Harry Potter, Charmed, Buffy the Vampire Slayer_** **_Angel_** are properties of JK Rowling, Aaron Spelling Joss Whedon. Except for the occasional 'original character' that might crop up every now and then. I don't own any rights to the aforementioned titles or its characters, I am merely borrowing them to cure this nagging plot bunny in my head.

**Summary:** Future Wyatt Halliwell concocted a time traveling spell and returned to 2003. Lord Voldemort was defeated in 1998 by Harry Potter, but he never really died. A mystical being and the spawn of the damned plays an important role in Voldemort and Wyatt's rise to power.

**PhoenixRae's Notes:** I am doing my best to stick to what actually happened in the season for **_Charmed, Angel_** **_Buffy the Vampire Slayer_**, but in all honesty I might not stick with it at all. And since we are dealing with the adult **_Harry Potter_** characters here, everything in the Potter universe will be altered already.

* * *

**II. Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!**

_London, England_

_BUFFY!_"

"_Angel!_"

Deafening silence followed the initial shock when the former lovers ran into each other in the last place on earth they expected to see each other again.

Buffy thought her eyes were deceiving her. What was Angel doing here in London? And why did he bring his pack of ragtag team with him? She surveyed each member carefully. She was surprised that the A.I. Crew grew immensely since she last saw them. They recruited a green-horned demon to provide...Buffy had no idea what the purpose of the demon was, but from where she stood she gathered he was harmless. Beside the demon stood a tall, sexy brunette wearing armpit-high gloves. Now _why_ would anyone be wearing such gloves? Sandwiched between Wesley and Cordelia was a mousy looking shy brunette and behind her stood a tall, bald black man. He looked like he grew up on the streets and has led a hard-knocked life. Letting her gaze wander from Cordelia to Angel, a lone figure standing apart from the group caught her attention.

He was a young boy, sixteen or seventeen maybe, with dark brown hair and intense dark eyes. Buffy felt a sense of familiarity as she looked at the boy. She'd seen him before, but when? And most importantly, _where?_

"Jeez, talk about cutting the air with tension," exclaimed an unfamiliar female voice followed by a sound of flesh hitting flesh and an "_Ouch!_" outcry from the same person that just spoke. "Why'd you do that for?" She complained.

The Scooby Gang and the A.I. Crew all turned their attention to the newcomers. Three females - 2 brunettes, one red haired - and two males - a blond and a dark haired - who all looked remarkably related.

"_You!_" Cordelia exclaimed when recognized the three women from her vision.

Piper stopped berating on Phoebe for her tactless approach and turned to look at the small mob they walked in to. Frowning, she searched the faces of the crowd before them. She was quickly able to pinpoint who was the person who recognized them since she still wore that deer-caught-in-front-of-the-headlights look on her face.

"Hi," Piper waved at her. "Y-you know us?" She was intrigued that this stranger from somewhere recognized her - or was it Phoebe or Paige she knew?

"Yeah," the brunette with some blond streaks nodded.

Angel frowned and glanced down at Cordelia who was beside him.

"You know them?" He sounded incredulous.

Cordelia broke eye contact with the brunette with long hair and met Angel's gaze. "I saw them in my vision," she answered matter-of-factly.

"W-w-wait," the other brunette with short hair and a large sunflower clip on the side of her head stepped up, looking from Cordelia to Angel then back at Cordelia. "You said you _had_ a vision?"

Cordelia looked back at the sisters - she was sure they were sisters - and nodded. "Yeah. It was a mind-numbing experience that I wish I don't have to experience so often."

"Whoa," Phoebe blew out a breath and asked, "Are you-are you by any chance a _witch?_"

"No, she's not. But I am," a redhead from the other gang stepped forward and turned to look at the brunette with the visions in the other gang, "You get still visions, Cor?"

"Yep," nodded the woman referred to as 'Cor.' "I'd gladly trade it in an instant, but it's not that easy to part with. So, you still doing the witchy thing, Wills?"

The redhead blushed and gave a slight shrug. She looked impishly cute and innocent. Phoebe was having a hard time believing she was a witch.

"Yeah, but I learned to control my powers after that last outburst of mine. But sometimes it's too tempting to resist," the woman called 'Wills' confessed.

"But we're making sure she doesn't get too tempted," chimed in a slacker-type guy with dark brown hair. "So Cordelia, did I hear it right? You're Vision Lady now?"

If a moment ago Cordelia was all smiley and chummy with 'Wills,' that all changed quickly when she addressed the other guy.

"Xander Harris...still the Great Slacker of Sunnydale or did you move up a notch?"

"Oh, I see that _Hell_-A has made you bitchier and snottier than before." The guy named Xander looked away from Cordelia and addressed the tall man in black coat standing beside her, "I'm surprised you're able to put up with her Angel."

"Are you implying that I am incapable of sharing a harmonious co-existence with others?" Cordelia was shooting daggers at Xander's direction. After four years since they last saw each other he was taking pot shots at her. The nerve of him!

"Hey, you said it not me."

"Why you-"

"Oh my God, Cordy! You look fab!" A dark haired, blue eyed girl exclaimed and pushed Xander out of the way.

Cordelia was distracted from clawing Xander's eyes out when a ball of long, silky dark haired girl lunged at her. She staggered backwards for a bit before she recognized who just latched on to her.

"Dawn?" Cordelia's eyes widened and hugged the young woman back. "You've grown so much! I almost didn't recognize you!"

Phoebe stepped back and watched the wacky reunion of the group of eclectic characters gathered before them.

"And here I thought _we're_ screwed up," she mumbled under her breath and earned herself a jab on the ribs from her sisters.

"Ah, I see you've all arrived. Good, good." A jolly male voice chuckled from the top of the stairs facing down on the lobby where the small group was gathered. "Sorry I'm a wee bit late. I was held up in a meeting with the Minister."

"_Minister?_" Giles cocked an eyebrow at the stocky man standing on the landing. "The _Prime_ Minister?"

"Since when did the Prime Minister of England give a hoot about the Watchers' Council?" Wesley voiced out.

"Ah, Mr. Giles and Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. Welcome back. I hope you didn't have a hard time locating the new headquarters?" The man, who has yet to introduce himself to the rest of the group, descended the stairs and stopped at the last step to look at the others. He surveyed the faces of each member carefully, searching for another familiar face until he found him. "I see that you're back to Whitelighter duty, Leo?"

The Scoobies and the A.I. Crew were at a loss as to what in the world was a Whitelighter. They murmured amongst themselves, wondering who this other group might be and what was their purpose here. Giles and Wesley were both wide-eyed as they stared at the blond man that came with the sisters and the dark haired young man. They've heard of such beings, but never had they encountered one in the flesh.

Leo grinned from ear to ear and reached over to shake hands with the head of the newly regrouped Watchers' Council in the heart of London. "Not really, Liam. I'm still an Elder, but right now my main priority are the Charmed Ones."

"Ah, a Whitelighter at heart," the man named Liam smiled broadly, then his eyes fixed on the young dark haired man standing beside Leo. "And who might you be?"

"Chris Perry. I am the Charmed Ones' Whitelighter." Answered the young man.

"Actually, Liam, he is the Charmed Ones' Whitelighter-in-Training," Leo corrected Chris's claim, which earned him a scathing glare from the young man.

If the tension between Buffy and Angel earlier was thick, the tension that suddenly sparked between the two whitelighters were blistery. Phoebe had to step up between Leo and Chris and put each whitelighter to their rightful corners. Since Piper still hasn't forgiven Leo for what he did, she was charged the task of taking Chris on her side while Paige handled Leo.

"Jeez people, when will you two _stop_ trying to bite each other's heads off?" Phoebe muttered, sending Chris and Leo each a glare that told them now wasn't the time to air out _their_ family's dirty laundry.

Once order was somewhat restored between the two butting-heads Whitelighter, Phoebe turned to the man Leo just addressed as 'Liam' and smiled. "Sorry about that. It was a _very long_ and _really tiring_ trip," she apologized.

Liam watched the group of witches and whitelighters that came from San Francisco. He was given the 411 by the Elder who spoke to him just hours before of the immediate arrival of the Charmed Ones, a trio of sisters with powerful magic especially when combined. If what the Minister of Magic told him was true, then they'd definitely need the Charmed Ones' help more than ever.

"I understand, Miss Halliwell," he nodded.

"Oh please, don't be so formal. Call me Phoebe. 'Miss Halliwell' kinda creeps me out, if you know what I'm saying?" Phoebe shivered to emphasize her meaning.

"If you insist," Liam conceded. He then turned his attention to the two former watchers who were eagerly waiting for him to answer their earlier query. "Mr. Giles and Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, I know you are both filled with many questions, but such matters aren't to be discussed here." Raising his voice a bit so the others can hear him, he addressed the small congregation before him. "If you'd all just follow me, we're to meet with the rest of the group at the Ministry." And he led the group down a long corridor opposite from the exit.

* * *

_Ministry of Magic, Minister of Magic's Office_

HARRY WAS CREATING A HOLE WHERE he had been pacing back and forth in front of the Minister of Magic's desk. He had just been informed that there were three other groups from America that were coming to meet with them. Seems like he wasn't the only one who had a premonition that involved Voldemort.

From what he was told by the Minister, three different women from the same state in the US but lived in different cities had a vision or premonition of a war and in the center of it were two prominent figures. One was that of a younger man breaking the neck of a much younger man's neck while the other figure, a hooded, snake-like figure, stood beside him holding two teenagers by their necks squeezing the life out of them

"Harry, will you quit your pacing before you fall off that hole you're creating," scolded Hermione Granger, Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, from where she sat on one of the armchairs facing the Minister's large desk.

"Yeah mate," nodded Ron. "Besides, you're making me dizzy with your constant pacing."

Harry stopped his pacing long enough to shoot a quelling glare at his best friend. He was in a right mood this afternoon and it wasn't improving until he met these trio of women who had pretty much the same vision. But even so. Voldemort still alive after that colourful send off they did to him five years ago? How could he have survived _that_ send off? Aveda Kedavra combined with a self-combusting hex hurtled his way to make sure he was gone for good should've done the trick. Why didn't that work?

A quick rap on the door announced the arrival of the other players needed to solve this mind-boggling mystery that was the resurrection of Lord Voldemort - if he was _indeed_ resurrected from the dead. Harry doubted it, of course, but who was he to know what was true and what was false?

"Come in," answered the Minister of Magic seated behind his large oak desk. With a flick of his wand his large office doors swung open, revealing a queue of people standing behind the stocky old man who knocked.

"Good day, Minister," Liam McAddelson removed his bowler hat and inclined his head in greeting. Stepping through the large doorway's threshold, he was followed by a cacophony of awed visitors. "Our visitors from California are all here and accounted for," he announced and stepped aside to reveal the three somewhat large groups of people that accompanied him.

Arthur Weasley, the Minister of Magic, rose from his large winged back chair and rounded his desk to shake hands with the startling group of muggles who each possessed a certain gift of either magic or power.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Ministry of Magic," he greeted in his usual jolly tone. "I am Arthur Weasley, Minister of Magic here in London." He shook hands with the three men who stood in front of the three groups that came with the head of the Watchers Council.

"Nice to meet you, Minister. I'm Leo Wyatt, an Elder and former Whitelighter." Leo clasped the redhead minister's hand in a firm grip.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Wyatt," Arthur smiled.

"Please, call me Leo."

"Very well. And please call me Arthur." Arthur then moved on to the next man with a distinct cut spanning from one end of his neck to the next. He lifted a curious brow and met the man's gaze, "That's an intriguing battle scar you got there, mate." He commented.

A quiet mumbling came from the man with the scar on this neck's group before the man in question cleared his throat and extended his hand. "Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, former watcher. Please call me Wesley," he said before the Minister could address him in a formal manner.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Wesley," Arthur smiled then moved on to shake hands with the eldest looking men of the three that stepped up. "And you must be Mr. Rupert Giles, am I correct?" Arthur's been told of the strongest vampire slayer's former mentor and has heard quite a bit of interesting story about the former watcher.

Giles chuckled and shook hands with the Minister. "I'm surprised you already know me, Minister."

"Call me Arthur," he smiled and added, "I heard quite a few background stories regarding your escapades in Sunnydale where you used to work and where you've been traveling back and forth to since retiring from looking after your Magic Shop business."

"Well I hope the stories you heard weren't too droll or overly exaggerated."

"If they were exaggerated a bit, I didn't pay attention," Arthur winked then stepped back to address the rest of the people that came with the three men he met. "Please, all of you, have a seat." With a wave of his wand, twenty-three chairs appeared to accommodate their guests.

"Wow, that's a neat trick," Paige commented aloud. She smiled up at Arthur and winked, "I guess you don't have to worry about conjuring chairs for personal gain."

"Personal gain?" Ron echoed, leaning forward in his seat and was intrigued by the muggle witch's comment. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know, using magic to your advantage all the time and the like," she shrugged with a wave of her long, slender fingers. "The PTBs are sure going to have a fit if I use magic each time I want to move a chair or need a chair and I am too lazy to go to the next room and grab one."

"PTB's?" Ron asked, his eyebrows screwed up in confusion. But before Paige could explain what or who were the 'PTBs' someone spoke, taking the attention from Paige to the other girl.

"At least you have that option. I am not even allowed to _learn_ magic," Dawn complained as she parked her behind in the conjured chair.

"You know _why_ you can't dabble in magic, Dawnie," Buffy reprimanded her sister.

"I don't understand why you're so uptight about me learning magic. I have Willow to help me with it." Dawn pointed out matter-of-factly.

"That's exactly why Buffy doesn't want you to be dabbling in magic, bit," chimed in the pale-faced, peroxide blond haired man who positioned himself behind the youngest brunette in the Buffy camp.

"_Hey!_" Willow reached behind her and swatted the blond haired man. "Are you saying that _I_ am not to be trusted with magic?"

Peroxide blond cocked an eyebrow at the direction of the red haired witch. "Hey, I wasn't the one who went on a power-surge killing spree a few months ago."

"_Spike!_" Scolded a brunette seated beside him and swatted him hard at the back of the head. "Haven't you learned about _finesse?_"

"That hurt!" Spike snarled and glared at the brunette beside him, "And since when were _you_ the poster girl for finesse, huh, Anyanka?"

"I am _not_ Anyanka!" the brunette yelled. "That was my demon name, but I am not that demon anymore. I've completely turned my back on the whole Vengeance Demon gig a year ago."

"_You_ are a former demon?" Phoebe gasped from the other end of the room, staring wide-eyed at the brunette Spike called 'Anyanka' who wasn't her name anymore.

"Yeah. I was a Vengeance Demon for well over a thousand years. After granting one _really_ nasty wish by a brokenhearted college student, it opened my eyes that vengeance ain't for me anymore." She explained, breaking into a sweet smile and crossed her hands on her lap, "Now I'm all human and no trace of demon in me."

"All human?" Phoebe echoed. "And-and _how_ are coping with it?"

Nobody's asked her that question directly since she became human again. Anya was surprised that this woman who was a complete stranger to her would be intrigued to find out how she was dealing with her human side.

"It's...it's a tough battle, but I keep on reminding myself of all the wonderful human things to do, to have, and that helps me a bit," she replied and quickly added, "Except for rabbits. They're evil, _evil_ creatures!"

Phoebe was obviously amused by the former demon's response. She was afraid of rabbits? How _odd_.

"Rabbits are cute creatures," piped-in the meek brunette seated behind Wesley. She lifted her head and looked at Anya seated two rows behind her on her left side, "They're not at all evil."

Anya snorted and sat up straighter in her seat. "Well you believe whatever you want to believe, honey. I still say rabbits are nasty, evil creatures that are waiting to pounce on you when you least expect it."

Harry watched the exchange between the two women and covered his chuckle with a cough. He looked at Ron who was also doing his best to not laugh at the ridiculous argument between the two women. Hermione was equally amazed by the exchange as well, but she was a much better actress than her two best mates; her jaw didn't even twitch, betraying a chuckle or two that was dying to escape from her lips. But inside she was killing herself from suppressed laughter.

Arthur Weasley watched in awed fascination as the non-stop rally between the muggles from Sunnydale, Los Angeles and San Francisco. He noticed Giles rolling his eyes at his charges while Wesley and Leo tried to bring order to the others from their group so the meeting could commence. The three men tried repeatedly to break the argument and discussions amongst the female members, but their attempt seemed futile; none of the women wanted to listen to them.

"I apologize for their lack of decorum," Giles said to the Minister. "Buffy and her friends are usually well-behaved," he reassured the red haired wizard.

Wesley and Leo said the same thing about their charges, each looking frustrated beyond reproach that no one wanted to listen to them.

Arthur chuckled and watched the others still babbling incessantly. "That's alright. I think I can handle this." He took out his wand and with a simple flick-and-swish of his wrist cast a spell on the noisy group. "_Silencio!_"

An eerie silence suddenly engulfed the entire room. People were still speaking, but no sound were coming out of their mouths. It was like watching an old silent movie. Harry, Ron and Hermione each exchanged surprised and impressed looks before they all turned to the Minister of Magic that just cast a spell on the twenty occupants of the room who couldn't keep their mouth shut.

Giles, Wesley and Leo were equally impressed. It only needed a small wooden stick to bring order into the room.

"Well, now that you've all been silenced, perhaps you'll give _us_ your undivided attention?" Giles informed the confused group before them.

A wave of voiceless protests ensued, but they weren't heard. Satisfied, Giles gave the floor to the Minister and took his seat beside Liam McAddelson.

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat straight in their seats and listened as Arthur Weasley addressed the room.

Before starting, Arthur reversed the spell, but only _after_ he was reassured by the people he silenced that they'd wait to socialize with one another until after the meeting has adjourned.

"I know you're all wondering _why_ we're gathered here today, in the Ministry of Magic away from the muggle world," Arthur began and surveyed the room. He noticed a few faces scrunched up in confusion at the term 'muggle'. As an aside he took a couple of seconds to explain what the word meant before continuing, "From what Giles and Wesley told Liam, and from what Zola, Leo's fellow Elder, informed me, Misses Summers, Halliwell and Chase all had a vision involving witches and wizards raging a war against one another, and in the center of this chaos a hooded figure with snake-like features was present alongside a much younger, but equally powerful, man." Again he paused and surveyed the room.

Everyone was waiting for him to continue. Even the trio who were seated against the wall nearest to the Charmed Ones were hanging on to his every word.

"We, in the wizarding world, have a reason to believe that the man under the hood squeezing the life out of two young people was none other than the late Lord Voldemort."

Harry noticed the Minister wince at the mention of the defeated Dark Lord's name. It still amazed him how many people still hasn't gotten used to saying Voldemort's name out loud. They knew he was defeated, and even when he was alive there wasn't a reason to be scared of speaking his name.

"Voldemort?" Giles questioned, an eyebrow raised as he looked at Arthur Weasley. "If my information's correct, wasn't he defeated back in 1998?"

"He was," it was Harry who spoke and addressed the people gathered in the Minister's office for the first time. All eyes turned to him, looking and waiting for him to continue. He looked at his superior and waited for his best friend's father's nod of approval before taking the floor from him. Getting up he stood before the group gathered in the room, but he only met Giles' gaze. "I was the one who shot him with the Aveda Kedavra, a deadly curse that renders the person shot with it instant death. Then to make certain he wouldn't rise to power again, we made up a spell that would engulf him in flames, cremating him to prevent his followers, the Death Eaters, from reviving him."

"You mean like resurrecting him from the dead?" Buffy asked.

Harry looked at the blond slayer and nodded. "Yeah."

"So this Lord Voldemort is back, is that what you're saying?" asked Wesley, his forehead creased to a deep frown as he listened to Harry's explanation.

"We're not certain, but if my scar burning like hell on my forehead is anything to go by, then I am positive Voldemort's back and gathering his followers to pose an attack on everyone who gets in his way to full power."

"Your scar?" Leo was confused, he looked at the young man's face and hidden underneath his mop of unruly dark brown hair was a lightning bolt shaped scar.

"Harry got it when Voldemort first tried to kill him when he was a year old," explained Hermione.

"You mean this Voldy-Snake thing's been after your behind since you were a baby?" Cordelia exclaimed in utter disbelief, "Jeez, whatever did _you_ do to this guy for him to want you dead?"

"He was part of a prophecy," Ron decided to share his two cents to the group.

"_Prophecy?_" Echoed the red-eyed green monster seated beside the quiet teenage boy at the back of the room. "_You_ guys have a prophecy too?"

"Used to," Hermione corrected the demon.

"Used to?" The teenager beside the demon spoke. He looked at Hermione square in the eye, holding her gaze for the longest time, challenging her to defend her claim.

Hermione sensed there was so much baggage hanging over the teenager's head, making him seem standoffish and keeping every one around him more than an arm's length away. Nevertheless, Hermione Granger wasn't known to be the kind to back down from any challenge and squared her shoulders.

"Harry played an integral part in Voldemort's rise to power," she began, crossing her hands on her lap. "It was prophesized that a boy born on the date of Harry's birth was the one who'd defeat him. This _baby_ possessed power Voldemort wouldn't think of. You can only imagine what went through his mind when he found out that a baby born on the thirty-first of July would be the end of him, so he hunted Harry and his parents down - and killed them. Harry would've been killed too, but by some odd twist of fate, or because of his mother's love for him, Harry's life was spared thus vanquishing the Dark Lord and leaving baby Harry with a scar on his forehead."

"But he was never really vanquished, was he?" Chris spoke from where he sat behind Phoebe and Paige. He remembered stories of a certain Dark Lord that threatened and caused quite an uproar in England back in the day. "He came back to finish what he started, and that was to kill the boy who threatened him."

"He came back during our first year at Hogwarts intent on killing Harry, but once again his plan was foiled. He tried again in our second year, but that memory of his sixteen year old self he preserved in a diary proved to be useless as well since Harry was able to defeat him then too. Our fourth and fifth year he and Harry came face to face and it was a helluva battle that ensued, but as always Voldemort wasn't as strong as he thought himself to be just yet and so Harry's life was spared from his imminent demise. Our sixth and seventh year at Hogwarts proved to be the toughest." Hermione paused and reminisced, remembering those who perished during their last two years at Hogwarts trying to win the battle against the Dark Lord. "In the end we defeated him, albeit quite a few loses from our side."

"And now he's back again," a tough-as-nails looking brunette from Buffy's camp stated the obvious. She was slouched in her seat and looked rather bored than interested. "Man, that Voldywart sure is a glutton for punishment, is he?"

This time Ron wasn't able to control himself and burst out laughing at the young woman's chosen pet name for the most feared dark wizard. Even Harry had to lose his composure and chortled.

"Faith, his name's _Voldemort_, not Voldywart," Giles corrected with a hint of exasperation in his tone.

"Hey, he's a bad ass. I don't give much crap about his name. He can be Baldy Wrap and I wouldn't give a hoot about his name."

"You're a rule breaker, aren't you?" Paige leaned forward and peered at the brunette who defied authority figures.

"Oh, am I _that_ obvious?"

"Just a tad bit," Phoebe raised her hand with her thumb and index finger mere inches away to show how much obvious she thought she was.

"Alright, _enough!_" Arthur took over the floor once more, his hands raised up to silence everyone once again. Once he had everyone's attention he dropped them the news he knew wouldn't be taken lightly by those concerned. "Now that we're all on the same page on what's going on, or what _will be_ going on, now it's time for me to announce _where_ we will set headquarters."

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa!_" Buffy was off her seat in a flash, her hands raised to stop the Minister from saying anything more. "What do you mean set headquarters?" She looked around frantically, her gaze darting from Giles to her gang then over to Angel and his crew then back at the Minister of Magic. "You mean we're staying _here_ in London?"

"Yes, naturally," Arthur answered. "Each of you possess the person you saw in your visions. And we know Voldemort wouldn't cross the Atlantic to take what he wanted."

"So in order words our _visions_ lured us here?" Phoebe didn't like the sound of that. "Why the heck would we linger _here_ when we know that those involved in our visions would be within arm's length of that evil dude being?"

"He would've lured us here one way or the other," Angel spoke, his forehead creased into a frown.

"And how can you be so sure about that?" Demanded Piper, turning with a raised brow at the dark haired brooding man.

"Because I've crossed paths with this evil wizard once before. And what Voldemort wants, Voldemort gets whether by hook or by crook."

* * *

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N:** Whoa! This is a pretty long chapter. I didn't expect it to be this long. Anyway, I am introducing the characters one by one here and trying to establish some sort of rapport between the them. I know you all have quite a few questions regarding what happened to so and so especially in the Potter universe, but don't worry, as this story progress certain situations will be explained.


	3. III Home Sweet Home & Burning Marks

**Disclaimer:** **_Harry Potter, Charmed, Buffy the Vampire Slayer_** **_Angel_** are properties of JK Rowling, Aaron Spelling Joss Whedon. Except for the occasional 'original character' that might crop up every now and then. I don't own any rights to the aforementioned titles or its characters, I am merely borrowing them to cure this nagging plot bunny in my head.

**Summary:** Future Wyatt Halliwell concocted a time traveling spell and returned to 2003. Lord Voldemort was defeated in 1998 by Harry Potter, but he never really died. A mystical being and the spawn of the damned plays an important role in Voldemort and Wyatt's rise to power.

**PhoenixRae's Notes:** Wow, I am starting the third chapter now and I have yet to post this fic online! LOL Well, it's better to have a few chapters done and out in case the dreaded writer's block decided to get in the way - as usual. I sure hope you're liking the fic so far. Please, please, _please_ let me know what you think of it. This is my first time writing a crossover and I am really looking forward to hearing some feedbacks from you wonderful readers you.

* * *

**III. Home Sweet Home Burning Marks**

_Hogsmeade, somewhere in Scotland_

THE AMERICANS' JAWS DROPPED WHEN THEY saw the state of the 'house' chosen to be their temporary headquarters while they think of a plan to prevent Voldemort and his accomplice's attack. It was an old, rickety place that looked like it hadn't been used for centuries. One strong wind and the whole thing would fall apart!

"You have got to be kidding me!" Exclaimed a flabbergasted Cordelia when she saw the state of the house they were to call home for the next little while until this impending doom passed.

"The place looks so damn small! It's not gonna fit all of us," complained Dawn, her nose wrinkled in disgust at the sight of the filthy place.

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. Apparently none of these people has seen the inside of bewitched tent.

Hermione cleared her throat and moved to the front of the queue. They took the route, in the dead of the night to avoid any sudden bursting into flames by two of their night-dweller companions, to the famous Shrieking Shack in the small village of Hogsmeade via the least conspicuous way and now they stood at the barricaded front door.

"It only looks like this on the outside. Consider it a camouflage in case some unwanted people decided to wander here," she explained. "But inside you'll see that it'll fit at least fifty people at a time."

"Now _that_ remains to be seen," snorted Connor, his arms crossed firmly over his chest while he leaned against a tall post support the barbwire fence.

Hermione shot the teenager a quelling look which was then returned by him. Since their arrival in London the boy had been nothing but an obnoxious snot, lacing everything he says with sarcasm and challenging everyone who dared speak to him. What was his problem?

"Then I suggest we go inside and find out if Hermione's lying or not," announced Harry over the top of everyone's heads. He and Ron decided to stay at the back of the group to keep an eye out for unwanted traveling companions.

"There's no way I'm setting foot in _that_ house," Anya backed away and in to Xander's arms. "What if there are rabbits hiding inside?"

Anya's out of the blue comment snapped Hermione out of her glaring contest against Connor and turned to an obviously afraid Anya. Hermione chuckled and shook her mop of curly dark brown hair. "Don't worry, Anya, we made sure to get rid of any unwanted rabbits that inhabited the place since it was last used," she assured the former Vengeance Demon.

It took them a good five minutes before they convinced the stubborn Americans that the Shrieking Shack was a safe place to inhibit despite of its less than attractive exterior. Anya was adamant she'll check herself into a hotel if she so much as sensed a rabbit's presence in the house. Cordelia complained about the dust and whatnot they'd have to clean to make the place look livable - or until it passed _her_ standards.

Hermione showed them the other passage they created to avoid using the front door. It was barricaded for a reason and they mustn't alert the villagers that _humans_ are living in the shack. They want to maintain the myth that the shack was haunted.

There were still murmurs of complaints from the majority of the group until Hermione unlocked the secret passage door and pushed it open, revealing a state-of-the-art modern-day home complete with hardwood floor that looked like it had just been recently polished. There was a winding staircase leading to the second floor landing where the bedrooms were located.

"Holy crap! Now _this_ is what I call nice digs!" Faith pushed aside the people in front of her and was the first to step over the threshold.

"It beats the Manor, that's for sure," observed Paige as she stepped through the threshold and circled the large entryway.

"Now I'll know _not_ to judge a book by its cover," commented Buffy as she entered the house.

"Aw, this place beats out my apartment in LA!" whined Cordelia as she stared at the high ceiling where a large chandelier hung from it and lit up the room.

"The Hyperion ain't got anything to this first-class beauty," Gunn commented, taking inventory of the furniture and decorations adorning the walls of the extremely spacious house.

One by one the Americans entered the shack, each marveling at the transformation from its outer look and what it was boasting inside. Harry and Ron did a quick patrolling of the premises before joining the others inside the shack and closed the door after them. They found Hermione pulled on the side by the Charmed Ones and the two slayers while the men were gathered around the living room, discussing amongst themselves. Upstairs they heard some giggles followed by a burst of surprised shrieks. Whomever just squealed like a school girl must've seen what they did to the bedrooms that was to be shared by two people.

Ron pulled his best friend aside and asked, "Do you really think Voldemort's back?" He'd been itching to ask his friend that question since they left the Ministry to escort their guests up north to Hogsmeade.

Harry kept his eyes on their guests but answered his friend's question. "It looks like it if two of the three people who had visions of the so-called attack were powerful people. I mean, the strongest vampire Slayer and a Charmed One. They battle demons, Ron, _demons_ - monsters you can only imagine."

Ron's gaze wandered to where Hermione stood with the two people Harry just mentioned. They were deep in conversation discussing whatever they could possibly discuss. Hermione being the Junior Assistant to his father meant that she was gathering as much information as she possibly can to report back to the Minister.

"Are you worried?"

Harry looked at his friend then and raised an eyebrow. "Of course I am worried. Voldemort rising back to power and somebody equally powerful or more alongside him as an ally? Wouldn't _you_ be worried yourself?"

"I'd be. But what I can't help but wonder is, _how_ did Voldemort survive?"

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Scotland_

DRACO MALFOY DISMISSED HIS LAST CLASS OF THE DAY fifteen minutes earlier than he was supposed to. He wasn't able to concentrate on what he was explaining to his fifth year students since that damnable mark on the inside of his forearm just below the bend of his elbow started bothering him. At first it started as as a pin-prickly feeling that turned to an annoying itch and now it was starting to burn a hole through his arm. He was surprised at how rapidly the pain grew, from a pinprick to an all-out inferno on his arm!

He needed to talk to Severus about this. Why the heck was this damned mark burning his arm? Was it suppose to hurt like hell even after the person who branded him with the mark was dead?

Locking his classroom up, Draco headed straight for the dungeons where he knew the Potions professor was just wrapping up his last class for the day. He needed answers right away before he went out of his mind from the scorching pain.

* * *

_Headmaster's Office  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Scotland_

A MAN WITH LONG, WHITE BEARD DRESSED IN BLUE silk robes and has half-moon specs perched on the bridge of his nose sat behind a desk cluttered with rolls of parchment and an open book. He had four visitors in his office, two of which were part of some higher being while the other two were former members of the formidable Watchers Council.

Albus Dumbledore listened intently to what the four people in his office were saying. Arthur Weasley sent him an owl explaining the situation before the arrival of these four people in his office. Dumbledore was the one who suggested to the Minister to use the Shrieking Shack as headquarters and safehouse for their American guests for the duration of their stay in the UK.

If Lord Voldemort was indeed back, the last place he'd expect his targets to hide was at Hogsmeade. He'd expect them to be either at the Ministry of Magic or tucked away somewhere in the Watchers Council's offices, but the thought of them seeking help from Dumbledore would be far from it. Nevertheless, Dumbledore was inclined to put a concealing charm around the shack's premises; they couldn't afford to risk alerting the villagers that the Americans were staying at the abandoned, _haunted_ shack.

"So," Dumbledore searched the faces of all four men before him, "we still have no idea who Lord Voldemort's ally is?"

"Phoebe had a clear view of his face in her vision and gave us a rough sketch on what he looked like. We showed it to everyone, but his face didn't ring a bell," explained Leo.

"Our resources in the Council ran the sketch over for comparisons, but came up with zilch," Giles informed them.

"I had a meeting with the other Elders, asked them who the man in Phoebe Halliwell's vision was, but we came up with nothing close to relating the mystery man to," Zola, an Elder and Leo's closest ally, informed the group.

"And you asked _everyone_ in your groups if they recognized the man?" Dumbledore directed his question to Leo. The mischievous twinkle in the elder wizard's eyes said he knew something none of the others knew.

"Yes, we did." Leo nodded, but the way Dumbledore aimed the question at him made the Elder wonder. Albus Dumbledore was an odd man, but his oddity often served a purpose; a riddle that needed to be solved was often hidden underneath his oddness.

"I suggest you ask them again, Mr. Wyatt," Dumbledore winked.

The doors to the Headmaster's office opened and two figure - a greasy dark haired man and a younger platinum blond haired man - swept into the room, their dark robes billowing behind them. They went straight to the Headmaster's desk, each clutching their forearm.

"Pardon the intrusion, Headmaster, but this matter Professor Malfoy and I need to speak to you with cannot be ignored," apologized the greasy-haired man.

One look at where the two men's hands were and Dumbledore didn't have to ask. Speaking in an undertone that only his two professors who barged in to his office unannounced could hear, the other four men present were confused at what just happened. Dumbledore and the eldest of the men that entered were deep in discussion; the blond haired young man with them had his face set to a deep scowl. After five minutes or less discussing the matter of grave importance, Dumbledore got up from seat and addressed the rest of the people present.

"Gentlemen, I'm afraid I have bad news totell you..."

* * *

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N: **I know this chapter is shorter than the previous one. I didn't mean for it to be this short, it just ended up that way. I hope you enjoyed this last three chapters so far. The next chapter(s) will be done at the rate I'm at. LOL Feedbacks are always welcome. Constructive criticism counts a lot to me. Thanks!


	4. IV Apparitions

**Disclaimer:** **_Harry Potter, Charmed, Buffy the Vampire Slayer_** & **_Angel_** are properties of JK Rowling, Aaron Spelling & Joss Whedon. Except for the occasional 'original character' that might crop up every now and then. I don't own any rights to the aforementioned titles or its characters, I am merely borrowing them to cure this nagging plot bunny in my head.

**Summary:** Future Wyatt Halliwell concocted a time traveling spell and returned to 2003. Lord Voldemort was defeated in 1998 by Harry Potter, but he never really died. A mystical being and the spawn of the damned plays an important role in Voldemort and Wyatt's rise to power.

**PhoenixRae's Notes:** Thank you so much to my reviewers! **BJCKidsX4** _These four are my all-time fave crossover stories. The shows were awesome and the book's great._ **Black Mage of Darkness** _I know it's a bit confusing. I was confused too while writing out some scenes involving all the characters from each fandom:LOL: As for Wyatt being the evil dude...hehehehe, you'll find out soon enough._ **diatrif** _Sorry to confuse you. I'll see what I can do to lessen the confusion here. :smiles:_ As usual read and review. I do want to hear your opinions/concerns about this fic. Thanks!

* * *

**IV. ****Apparitions**

_London, England_

_HELLO PHEBES," PRUE HALLIWELL SMILED AT her sister, pushing herself up from the wrought-iron chair in an outdoor cafe in London where they agreed to meet. "You're late, as usual," she added before pulling her kid sister in for a hug. "God, I missed you," she whispered._

_Phoebe stood there, shocked to find Prue alive and kicking and enjoying the balmy London pre-spring season._

_"Prue?"_

_"Yes, silly," Prue was smiling from ear to ear, her eyes shone with glee at seeing her sister again. "Now come here and let's order. I am _dying_ for some coffee -- and no pun intended," she gave her sister a knowing wink before settling herself in the wrought iron chair she was sitting at moments before._

_Phoebe blinked twice. She stared dumbfounded at her sister who looked like she hasn't aged a day since...oh God, since she last saw her alive._

_"W-what are you doing here?" She stammered, her feet felt like she was dragging a chain with a two hundred pound steel ball attached at the end of it._

_Prue raised an eyebrow at her sister's question. She looked around her and gestured by spreading her arms wide open, "I'm here for some coffee--and a chat with you too."_

_"A chat? About what?"_

_"The weather. Life. The imminent threat on our poor nephew's life by his brother." Prue replied casually and with a flick of her wrist she flagged down a passing server and placed her order. She took the liberty of ordering for Phoebe as well then send their server off. "Quit dilly-dallying, Phoebe Halliwell, and sit your cute little behind here," Prue patted the seat across from her and eagerly waited for her sister to do as she was told._

_Finally Phoebe reached the seat her sister indicated and parked her behind down. She was still in shock at seeing Prue again after two years since they buried her. And what did she mean about this imminent threat on their nephew by his brother? Wyatt has a brother? Since when? Piper never mentioned anything about being pregnant. As far as she knows her sister was currently too miffed at her husband to even consider welcoming him home!_

_"Now, now, Phebes, before you go off to the deep end thinking that something's amiss, I'm warning you now to stop thinking about whatever it is that you're wondering about," warned Prue, sitting back and crossing her legs._

_"Prue, I'm--I'm a little confused here. _What_ are you doing in London? And--and what am _I_ doing in London? Should I be in Scotland right now training with the others for the upcoming battle or whatever my damn vision was all about?"_

_Prue was halted from answering back by the arrival of their order. Their server, an Orlando Bloom look-alike young hottie that made Phoebe do a double take, placed their drinks on the table then walked away. She made a mental note to ask him what his name was when he came around to ask if they wanted any refills or something else to eat._

_"Phoebe, Chris is _not_ the enemy even though he appeared to be the one causing all the trouble. Help him and Leo find some sort of truce. Piper and Leo needs to have a sit-down conversation and sort whatever happened over the summer. Piper needs to trust Chris too." Prue sounded very cryptic, but Phoebe was getting the gist that her eldest sister wanted her to not think of Chris, their Whitelighter-in-Training according to Leo, as an enemy but more of an ally._

_"What's going on, Prue? _Why_ do I have to trust Chris? So far he hasn't proven himself to be as trustworthy as Leo."_

_Prue glanced down at her wrist at the silver band with a black watch face background. Sighing she looked back at her sister and took her hands in hers. "Phoebe, trust me. We are running out of time. He's here, you know? He arrived the day you had your vision--and he didn't arrive alone. He took with him someone who was as powerful and vile as him."_

_"He who?" Phoebe demanded. She was confused. Who was Prue talking about? Chris? It can't be Chris. She just warned her to trust Chris, so this 'he' she was referring to must be that man in her vision. But who was he?_

_"Time...is...running...out..." Prue's voice began to sound so distant. Soon her eldest sister's face started to become blurry; there was a bright light behind Prue blinding Phoebe's vision until all she could see of her sister was her silhouette and hear her fading voice telling her to trust Chris and help Piper and Leo rebuild their family._

* * *

_Halliwell Sisters Bedroom, Shrieking Shack  
Hogsmeade, somewhere in Scotland_

PHOEBE SAT BOLT UP IN HER BED. SHE LOOKED AROUND wildly in the room she shared with her sisters and baby Wyatt. His nephew was returned to his mother after being under the care of their grandmother while they were busy during the day tracking down Voldemort and his still unnamed cohort.

Pushing the sheets aside, Phoebe slipped her feet into her warm, fuzzy slippers and walked over to the crib where Wyatt lay asleep face-down. Peering down on her nephew, Phoebe ran the back of her fingers against his soft blond hair and sighed. He was such a little angel.

"Phebes?" It was Piper sounding groggy from sleep that whispered her name.

Phoebe straightened up from where she was peering down at Wyatt and looked at her sister. "Hi, Piper," she whispered back and tiptoed away from the crib to sit at the foot of her sister's bed, "How are ya?"

In the dimly lit room Phoebe could see her sister cocking an eyebrow at her. She'd be doing that too if their positions were reversed and she was on the receiving end of being asked 'how are ya' in the dead of the night.

"What's going on?" Piper sounded alarmed, looking at her sister sideways with her eyes looking like a pair of thin slits as she gouged what was wrong. "Did Wyatt wake up?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no," Phoebe let out a nervous chuckle. "Wyatt's just fine. I--well...uhm...I had a dream and it woke me up, so I thought I'd check on Wyatt since I'm already up," she explained.

"Was Wyatt involved in your dream?"

_Sorta. I think._ "No. Not at all. No," Phoebe denied. She was still uncertain on whether or not she should tell Piper that Prue visited her in her dream. She wasn't sure herself if Prue _indeed_ visited her and warned her of that young man posing a threat on Chris's life or if it was just a dream for dream's sake. "Sorry, Piper, didn't mean to alarm you or anything. Just...just go back to sleep." She patted her sister's leg and pushed herself off her bed.

"No, wait a minute," Piper's hand shot out and grabbed Phoebe's wrist before she could walk back to her bed. She knew when something was up with her sister, after all she was the person Phoebe often ran to whenever she was in trouble or something was bothering her, and now she obviously looked very bothered. "You sit your ass back down and tell me what is wrong. You wouldn't be up checking on Wyatt if you didn't have a bad dream. Now, _spill!_" She demanded.

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, somewhere in Scotland_

_HELLO, HARRY." GREETED SIRIUS BLACK AS HE STOOD at the bottom of the spiral stone stairwell leading to Professor Dumbledore's office. His hair was still worn long and looked unkempt, but the looked suited him nevertheless. His clothes looked less shabby now, but he still had the bum-effect working for him which made it easier for him to blend in with the Muggles outside the wizarding world. "Mind if we have a little chat?"_

_Harry stood motionless a foot away from his deceased godfather. He blinked twice in rapid succession, trying to clear his vision. Was he seeing things? And what in tarnation was he doing at Hogwarts? He didn't have any business with Dumbledore at the moment, and yet here he was standing at the bottom of the steps where the large gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office stood before him, and underneath the large piece of stone stood his godfather._

_"Sirius?" His feet suddenly felt as heavy as lead as he took one step at a time to reach his godfather. "W-what are you doing here?" he stammered, looking here and there in search of...what was he searching for? The entire corridor was deserted save for the two of them!_

_In an amused chortle that soon boomed into a resounding laugh, Sirius Black reached over and clapped his godson's shoulder while he calmed himself down. He looked like a young boy of thirteen getting into mischief right then, and that look was priceless. He knew visiting people in their dreams was a tricky business, but he had to be here. He _needed_ to be here; to warn him and the rest of the people involved of what was to come._

_He couldn't divulge much. Other facts must be found out on their own, but time was a-wasting, and the Americans, as well as his godson and his friends, needed to be alerted immediately. A tricky business indeed, but someone has to do it. He knew the others would do their fair share of warning their next of kins. By morning all four groups would meet and discuss what just happened the night before._

* * *

_1630 Revello Drive  
Sunnydale, CA_

_IT WAS A BRIGHT AND EXCRUCIATINGLY HOT AFTERNOON. Buffy decided to peel off the t-shirt she wore and opted for a white cotton tank top and short-shorts in the hopes of battling the heat. It was extremely hot and humid for this time of the year in Sunnydale. In the last few years since she moved here with her mother and sister this was the first time this kind of heat wave struck their town -- and in March too!_

_"Dawn, can you turn up the a/c please?" She called from the top of the stairs after she slipped on her tank top. She waited two heart beats for some sort of movement or response from her sister. When she heard none she called to her again. Again she waited. Same response. Irritated, Buffy tugged down the hem of the tank top and made sure she buttoned her shorts and marched down the stairs. "Where could she--"_

_"I asked her to grab some ice cream at the corner store," came an all too familiar female voice from behind her._

_Buffy screamed to the top of her lungs, nearly exploding hers and the unexpected person's eardrums at the high decibels her screamed escalated to. She lost her footing going down the stairs and would've fallen down if it hadn't been for her quick slayer reflexes. Grabbing on to the guard rail, Buffy straightened pulled herself up and pressed her back against the wooden rail. Her big, blue eyes slowly moved up the stairs at the woman standing there, her mop of curly blond hair glistened and that sweet, maternal smile she always had on was present._

_"Mom?" she asked breathlessly. "Mom, is that--is that really you?" She felt a lump form in her throat as she stared at the face of the woman who was suddenly taken from her and Dawn's life two years ago._

_Joyce Summers' smile broaden and she spread her arms wide. "In the flesh, sweetheart," she nodded._

_"Oh my God..." Buffy suddenly felt claustrophobic. The walls around her began closing in around her, the air getting steeper and steeper as she hyperventilated. "This...this...oh my God...oh my God..."_

_Joyce was quickly by her daughter's side, guiding her down the stairs and in to the living room. "Buffy, I know this is a shock to you. I didn't mean to surprise you like this," she apologized as she guided her eldest daughter to the sofa. "But I have to warn you."_

_"Warn me?" Buffy stopped her hyperventilating then and snapped her blond head up, her blue eyes meeting her mother's gaze. "What are you talking about, Mom?" Suddenly she forgot all about her mother being there in the flesh when she was supposedly dead._

_Joyce took her time in answering. It was all rather sudden, her being asked to make a special appearance back in her daughter's life. She knew that the only way she'd be able to warn Buffy was through a dream. She'd more likely listen to her if she appeared to her in a dream rather than when she was awake. And she picked out this place, their home in Sunnydale, to be their meeting place. At least she'd feel safe and in familiar surroundings._

_"Dawn's not the only one you have to protect, Buffy. You all must band together to stop them." She was a bit cryptic, but she couldn't reveal much. Their sole purpose was to alert them that whatever they saw in their visions or dreams prior to them getting together in London was something not to be set aside and forgot about. She knew her daughter had the First to worry about, but this imminent danger would abolish them before the First could even rise to full power; the First wouldn't stand a chance once this inevitable abomination came to power._

* * *

_Shrieking Shack Grounds  
Hogsmeade, somewhere in Scotland_

ANGEL WAS BUSY PATROLLING THE SHACK'S SURROUNDINGS when he heard some scratching coming from the shed Bill Weasley, the Minister of Magic's eldest son, built for them to train at during the day. The shed was large enough to accommodate all of the necessary weapons and training material the two slayers and the two vampires needed to practice with while Wesley and Giles, as well as Leo, were busy locked up in some Headmaster's office inside the large castle that was said to be a school that wasn't too far from the village.

Keeping his eyes and ears on alert, Angel slowly made his way towards the shed. He had to be on guard in case someone broke in to the charm cast on the entire area to ward off unwanted people.

"Hello?" He called out into the darkness. His fists balled up on his sides, his long overcoat blending in with the darkness surrounding him, Angel reached the shed and looked here and there in search of the noise he sensed moments ago. "Anybody here?"

No answer.

Angel took a couple of steps and stopped beside the large and heavy punching bag hanging from one of the strong beams supporting the shed. Sidestepping his way around the punching bag to reach the armor chest where they kept their weapons supply, Angel made the quietest sound he could possibly make as he unlatched the chest and slowly pulled its cover up. He grabbed the first weapon he could skim his hand on -- a crossbow. That ought to be powerful enough to ward off whomever was hiding in here.

"I know you're here," Angel said in a calm voice, closing the chest's cover gently and held the crossbow face-down on his side. "_Show yourself!_"

Angel heard someone stepped on gravel to his left and in a blink of an eye had the crossbow up, aimed at the direction of the sound and shot the arrow. Two heartbeats later the arrow hit its target and a whiny "_Ow!_" was heard from the direction he shot at.

Dropping the crossbow on the ground, Angel sprinted to the direction of the intruder and jumped him, only to spring back when he saw the face of the last person he expected to see since his heroic demise four years ago.

"Doyle?"

"Dammit, Angel," hissed the half human, half Bracken demon lying on the ground with a crossbow embedded on his side. "Next time wait to see who the intruder is first before you shoot!" he complained and in a quick, swift move pulled the arrow where it struck him, yelping in pain in doing so as well. "Effing hell! I know I already crossed the beyond, but that damn thing still hurt like hell!"

"Sorry about that," Angel apologized awkwardly and thrust his hand out to help his friend up. "I was patrolling when I heard some sounds coming from here," he explained.

"I know what you were doing, Mr. Broody," Doyle replied, wincing as he straightened up to a standing position. "Anyway, not much time. I just came here to warn you about what's to come."

Angel's forehead creased to a deep frown. "What?"

Doyle cocked an eyebrow and met his confused friend's gaze. "You don't think the Powers That Be and I aren't connected anymore, do you? I may be dead already, but I didn't exactly rot in hell for I did some good in my lifetime on this earth."

"Doyle--"

"Look, before you think it I'm going to tell you now, you're _not_ dreaming. I am really here, in the flesh. But we haven't got time to chit-chat so listen carefully and listen well. The people you're here with right now and the people helping you from the Ministry are your best chance of defeating the dark power rising. Keep a close eye on Junior and the Slayer's sister -- they are the key ingredients to this massive abomination waiting to happen."

* * *

_Kitchen, Shrieking Shack  
Hogsmeade, somewhere in Scotland_

HARRY, ANGEL, BUFFY, PHOEBE, PIPER AND PAIGE SAT around the oval kitchen table discussing the apparitions that occurred the night before. Of everyone who was visited by a deceased loved one, Angel was the only one who encountered such apparition wide awake. They compared notes, asked each other questions. They were all sorting out what Joyce Summers, Prue Halliwell, Sirius Black, and Francis Doyle meant with their cryptic messages.

"Prue mentioned something about our nephew being tormented by his brother," Phoebe told the small group, looking from Paige then to Piper before adding, "Now the person I saw in my vision being tormented was Chris -- and he is so _not_ our nephew!"

"Maybe Prue got it wrong," Paige suggested.

"No," Phoebe sat back in her seat and shook her head. "She sounded so damn certain about our nephew having a brother. A _brother_, Piper," she emphasized more on the word 'brother' and glared at her sister. "Jeez, seems like you and Leo will be breaking the long line of female heirs to the Halliwell name!"

"You mean to say until your nephew Wyatt was born, all Halliwell offspring were female?" Harry butted in, his forehead creased to a frown as he looked at one Charmed sister after the other.

"Yeah," Phoebe let out a long, somewhat exasperated sigh and met the Auror's green eyes. "When Piper, Prue and myself were sent to the future to see what consequences our one act of defiance to using magic on innocents to teach them a lesson would do to us, Piper had a daughter so when she got pregnant with her and Leo's first baby, the three of us assumed we'd be welcoming a little Prue to the family since we just lost a sister the year we found out Piper was going to be a mother."

"Must be a shocker when instead of a slit you found the baby had a little wanker when Piper gave birth," commented Buffy.

All eyes turned to the blond slayer and her uncensored mouth. Angel stared in surprise at her vulgarity.

"What?" Buffy addressed the small group staring at her. "I was just stating the obvious," she answered defensively.

"Yeah, but Buffy, in the years since I met you, you _never_ were this vulgar," answered Angel.

"Oh," Buffy felt her cheeks colour a little. "Blame Spike for rubbing off on me."

"Apparently Spike is not at all a good influence on you," remarked Harry and Angel grunted his agreement.

Buffy glared at the two dark haired male member of this small group congregating in the kitchen discussing what just happened the night before.

"Anyway, according to my Mom, my sister's not the only one I need to protect," she paused and looked at the other five faces seated around the table with her. "We have to battle this evil _together._ It's like that saying, _united we stand, divided we fall._"

"OK, so we established that Buffy's mother, Harry's godfather, Angel's demon friend and our sister all came to us last night to warn us and tell us to stick together. But did they hint to any of you as to _whom_ we might be facing off with aside from the now very much alive Voldemort?" Piper looked at each person in the room, waiting for any one of them to throw in any ideas on who the still-to-be-named Voldemort ally was.

Silence fell amongst the small group. They were all at a loss still.

* * *

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
